Gentle Teaching While the Cap is Flying…

“All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players.
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts…”
– William Shakespeare, As You Like It, act 2, scene 7.

The stage is set. The scene: Inside a classroom on a warm wintry afternoon. The teacher has stepped away from the class for a brief moment. Two boisterous boys begin a little bit of horseplay. Another boy, slight, quiet, wearing glasses, sits at his desk off to one side.

One of the boisterous boys grabs the cap off of the quiet boy’s head. He and his friend toss it back and forth overhead, laughing loudly, trying to draw attention from their classmates or elicit a response from their target. The quiet boy is unsure and fearful. Should he grab for his cap, escalating the game and potentially inviting violence? Or does he shut down, stay low, cop to his position of powerlessness, and wait for his captors to grow bored? He looks over to a couple of classmates, catches the eye of the boy behind him, who turns away.

When I think of all the stages of the world upon which our 3 kids play out their daily lives, and the various ‘danger zones’ where we must be vigilant for their safety, their individual classrooms don’t really rank as places that merit concern. Certainly, the classroom doesn’t seem more perilous than the downtown bus terminal where they navigate a transfer – innumerable crimes occur in that 2 block radius over the course of a school year, some violent, and some to school-aged children. Their classrooms don’t seem more hazardous than the walk through the streets to get home – we all know enough to worry about abduction or distracted drivers not watching for pedestrians. Surely, once my babies get into their classrooms, I should breathe a sigh of relief.

I’m reading Barbara Coloroso’s book, The Bully, the Bullied, and the Bystander right now. It tells of “three characters and a tragedy performed in our schools, homes, playgrounds, and streets”. Coloroso says that most kids try out all three rolls, slipping from one to the other with relative ease. Many slide for good into the roll of bystander, while others get typecast as the bully or the bullied and struggle to move out of those rolls.

My blood boils when I see children preying on each other. My kids know not to play keep-away with each other’s hats or book bags – at least where I might see or hear of it. Some might wonder why such seemingly harmless child’s play would elicit such a heated emotional response. Maybe I played the role of ‘bullied’ once. Maybe my own cap, or glasses, or mitts were kept from me for the pleasure of others, or maybe I can feel a child’s helpless panic simply out of empathy. Regardless of why, I think that this little game demonstrates the power stratum as brutally as a foot on the neck. A foot on the neck is a violent thing, and can have long lasting emotional effects.

We are so blessed that our children can access an education system led by dedicated, talented educators who really care about kids. Our own kids are blessed by the fact that, for the most part, they are not targeted for violence by their peers. But it has happened on occasion. And when it has, those mother-bear instincts are not meek or mild. They are shockingly strong.

We need to respond with the right message. It’s not okay for children to victimize other children. It’s not something that we allow. It’s not a rite of passage and it’s not just a part of growing up. But parents in this position need to know that there is a better response to bullying than simply applying a bigger foot to the neck of the bully.

Gentle Teaching does not strip us of power – it empowers. It can reach into the heart of the bully and turn him or her toward a life that is enriched by mutual ties of affection with others. The child who might easily slip into the role of ‘the bullied’ can be kept safe even if his protectors believe in gentleness. Yes, as parents, teachers and caregivers of all kinds, we can be effective in our roles as powerful advocates for children who rely on us for their safety, and still have an attitude of gentleness.

I believe that the philosophy of Gentle Teaching will help children feel safe, loved, loving and engaged in their community, no matter which role they are currently playing. But in that moment, while the cap is flying, what does a gentle response look like?

This requires some chewing, and a little more time with Barbara.

Author’s note to all boys everywhere: You are terrific human beings and are not prone to playing the role of the bully any more than girls. I only used boys in this example because I felt like it.

Author’s note to the 3 Jones children: 'As long as I’m living, my babies you’ll be'. Get used to it.